


Vernal

by czaeristhetic (joantpan)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Freedom, Light-Hearted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joantpan/pseuds/czaeristhetic
Summary: Spring,rejuvenation and rebirth.Snow melts - warmth in the air, flowers bloom beneath crisp and lush trees, and the birds would sing happily while perched among thick and thin branches.But in his eyes, one flower stood out particularly during that season.Lee Taeyong.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Kudos: 25





	Vernal

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo wassup guys- so sorry for any late updates for my other stories. I got caught up with so many plates during school days but now that it's Quarantine season- maybe i'd be able to post new chapters or let's say I will just renew my stories again under this new pseudonym.  
> Anyways, here is a spin off from my oneshot Baekyeol story originally posted in asian fanfics, I wanted to rewrite this one story as it is kinda special in my heart - it is one of my complete ones lmao. So yeah- this may be a oneshot but I may just do a sequel on this one if it goes well.  
> So guys, stay safe during the Quarantine times and stay indoors!!  
> Warning- angst content ahead.

At such a young age, Lee Taeyong had already experienced how it would be like in the confines of a broken family.

It all started when he was around three years old.

He never understood back then - too young to comprehend, yet he knew _something_ was wrong the moment he walked up into his front porch, small hands grasping his next door friend's who was two years older than him. He just came back from playing with his brunet hyung, who flinched along with him as loud consecutive crashes of glass breaking from the inside strung out - accompanied with two adults screaming profanities at each other. At three years of age, he never wanted to step a foot into that house he once called _home_.

At four years old, the screaming worsened. Taeyong was escorted outside by his mom to his hyung's house everyday, just before the first screech of voices started. "Why is mommy shouting?" He asked the kind old lady at his hyung's house but it was unanswered. He went to his aunt and uncle, his hyung's parents, and asked them instead. "Why is mommy shouting?" It was still unanswered. They _refused_ to answer. He went to his hyung and resorted to asking him instead, "Why is mommy screaming?". His hyung looked at him with sad eyes.

Taeyong didn't like sad. His hyung understood, but he didn't. So at four years of age, his hyung covered his ears for him.

At five years old, Taeyong didn't like his house anymore. It was always loud and he had no one to play with, so he always went over to his hyung's house with the approval of his mother. He practically lived in his neighbor's house almost everyday. He liked it there, he liked the kind old lady, he liked his aunt, he liked his uncle and most especially, he liked his hyung. He loved the cookies and milk though, but that was little Taeyong's secret to keep. One night, his hyung held his hand firmly and gave him a dimpled smile, _"I'll be here for you always, Yongie-ah."_ Taeyong believed in it.

When Taeyong was six years old, the green two-storey house next to them was long empty already. His hyung and their family moved out. The brunet hyung was his only friend in that rowdy neighborhood, probably why the family left in the first place because of its rowdiness. Not a _single bye_ was even exchanged between them, and to say that Taeyong was forlorn would be an understatement. At six years of age, he stared at the house from his window and fell into depression.

Every single day he would be greeted by the sight of two adults yelling at each other as if there was no tomorrow whilst sometimes, if both adults were out, there would only be a deafening silence throughout the house. The sad thing was that Taeyong still _never_ knew why it was like that inside the Lee household.

And it stayed that way for a while.

Taeyong was eleven years old when he came into terms with his sexuality. He especially learned to accept it when his new, young and handsome homeroom teacher - who told the class that he was Japanese, bounced inside their room with a perfect smile and with perfect rows of pearly white teeth. He sported a hard on he tried to hide with his bag on the way home. He was into guys. But at twelve years old, when he saw a flash of silver on the ring finger of his homeroom teacher he was heart broken.

It was when Taeyong was thirteen years old that he stepped into their house, regretting. Lip stick stained clothes - reeked of cheap perfumes, red stilettos and underwear that definitely wasn't his mom's were scattered all over the vinyl floors of the living room. Right there, he then understood _why_. At thirteen years of age, Taeyong ran away from home for a week until his mom found him a shivering and hungry mess amidst the trees of the small forest behind their house.

At fourteen years old, his mother left him to work in a different city filled with tearful promises that she'll come back for him. The month after, a burly old man knocked harshly on their front door - face darkening. Taeyong opened it just to be yelled at for something he wasn't even aware about. If they didn't pay their debt, they would be kicked out of the house. He called his mom asking for money - only to find out that his father had received the money yet he never saw a single penny of it in that household, _nor did he see a single strand of his father's hair_. Needless to say, it gave Taeyong huge headaches.

When Taeyong was almost fifteen, he stopped going to school and started working in a nearby convenience store. He never had friends in school anyways. He was tired of walking on school grounds when all he heard were nasty rumors about him, his sexuality and his broken family. He started not using his glasses anymore as his features started to develop, eyes bigger and jawline sharper with a body that was quite slender for his age - he started to take after his beautiful mother. He decided to dye his hair silver.

At fifteen years old, there was no knock on the front door. Instead, his father busted inside uninvited after almost a year of disappearance, wasted - smelling of burnt cigarettes and strong alcohol, beating him up, pulling on his silver locks of hair and leaving dark coloured bruises all over his silky white skin. His father almost shitted on him, face full of disgust as the words left those filthy mouth of his, "You look just like your fucking mom, you filthy _faggot!!_ ". Taeyong stopped working and hid in his room altogether. It gave him _helpless and restless nights_.

At sixteen years of age, his worn out state got even _worst_.

At seventeen years of age, he _almost_ killed his self.

At eighteen years of age, he fought back.

At nineteen years of age, his mother came back.

But then again, now at twenty years of age - it remained a wonder why Taeyong never hated his parents.

He moved on too easily, a _miracle_.

All he could do before was just look. Look as his parents argue with pure sadness hidden deeply beneath those glossy pair of hazel eyes. Look from the opened door of the master bedroom as his father fucked another woman on the same bed that his father slept with his mother. Look towards the blurry blackboard of his classroom as he was forced to sit at the back - drowning out the whispers of his classmates around him. Look as his own father left scarring bruises on bruises that haven't even healed yet, with only two frail arms to protect him from the monster known as domestic violence and a silent scream inside his head.

Once upon a time when Taeyong was two years old, soft giggles left his mouth as his father and mother gifted him a small yellow hardbound book on his birthday. "The Little Prince", is what it said on the cover page - though he just placed it on his mouth and drooled all over it. His father and mother laughed at that with smiling eyes. A sight he'd never see again in this life time.

He was downright disappointed, no, distraught? devastated? But why? Why is it that amidst the family conflict, he didn’t know how to cry. Never did a single tear drop from his eyes.

At twenty years of age, Taeyong _**never** cried_.

Lee Taeyong pitied himself for living in such a way.

In those twently inconsolable years of his life, all he ever wanted was to feel that warm sensation which love holds. For others, it may be the smallest and silliest thing in the whole wide world, but for Taeyong, it may be small - but these small things can harbour great love. He didn’t care what others thought of his little dream. He would always tell himself that someday, maybe he would be able to grasp that little dream of his. After all, he was still clinging to some bit of hope deep inside him.

Now here he was, living in a small yet peaceful neighbourhood located around the Gangseo district in Busan, South Korea. He was the only child so after his parents filed for a divorce and his mother won the custody over him in court with his father proven guilty - being escorted to prison for child negligence and domestic abuse. It was inevitable that he would have to move in with her to South Korea. His father used to be a businessman - a failure at that, Korean in a Chinese business, so they had lived in Guangzhou for years now. Now he was back in Korea, Korea was after all his homeland.

Perhaps it was an act of faith, and not to mention that he was extremely pleased with the decision.

The Land of the Morning Calm, South Korea really lives up to its name.

Spring breeze whispers. The vivid atmosphere of the season in the early refreshing month of May was giving him a warm welcome. He could see the sun rising along the horizon beyond the sparkly blue ocean as he stepped out to the porch of his new home. He stretched his arms gently. The cherry blossoms’ petals cascaded from the swaying trees coming in various tints of the colour pink.

“Pretty..” He gushed excitedly despite his age, walking down in hasty steps to take in the breath taking view of the beach.

It was perhaps dawn and the scent of the salty sea air filled his nostrils. He threw his slippers and ran. He ran, ran like he never did before in his life. Away from the stressful days, away from endless nightmares, and away from his past.

"Good morning!" He greeted an elderly couple enthusiastically who were sitting by folding chairs two blocks down his house. "How romantic-" He thought to his self with a genuine smile creeping its way to his lips, both nodding at him and giving him a bright smile. He waved as he ran back, taking the route of the shallow ends of sea water this time- splashing around and making noise early in the morning.

Everything, everywhere, it was so full of life! He could hear the waves closely beside him slapping the shore. Walking away from the water, he bends down and stares with wide doe eyes at a little crab that was desperately making a hole on the crisp glimmering white sand, as if it was the most amusing thing in the world.

"It won’t bite..." Taeyong thought albeit loudly, holding out a hand and making a small attempt to poke its shell. Just as his index finger was about to be in contact with the small creature, a stray pink petal landed on his nose.

“Achoo!” He sneezed lightly, crinkling his nose. Apparently, it had scared the little crab so it was driven to hide inside its newly crafted tiny hole - it's leg getting stuck for a bit before making a bee line and sinking itself quickly.

Taeyong blinked. “Pfft-“ And he bursts out into a fit of laughter whole heartedly. He fell on his butt on the sands, laughing loudly that a dog that was passing by ran away in surprise. After a bit, he relaxed and smiled widely. It is a good change. No more violence, and gone are the bad days. He had never felt this happy and free before. The ends of his eyes are crinkled up, almost gone in overwhelming happiness.

He stood up and patted off the sand on his butt when the loud vibrating sounds of piano caught his attention. He stared at direction where it might ought to be and closed his eyes, listening intently to the sad melody. After a while, the playing got softer and he wondered. He could feel a tinge of happiness within the keys. He shrugged a bit and concluded to his self that may be the person playing it had finally found something that’ll truly make life worth living for. Weird though, he thought that the song suited him.

So just like that, Taeyong decided to sit by the bench under a cherry blossom tree across the road adjacent to his house to listen to the symphonic sounds the piano expressed. He went back to his house only when his mom called for him to eat - then coming back outside to listen to the piano again, all day long. Unconsciously, he eventually fell asleep.

The day passed by in a flash and before he knew it, the moon had taken over the sun. It illuminated the whole city as the chilly night breeze came by.

Taeyong woke up, rubbing his arms in a feeble attempt to warm his body. He blinked a few times to adjust his eyesight, rubbed em' then glanced around, eyes slowly shimmering with awe as he made out that night time in Busan was just as lovely as it was during the daylight.

When he decided to stand up, a single red rose had fallen from his lap.

He narrowed his eyes at the object. Curiously, he grabbed the red flower, careful enough so that he wouldn’t prick his long and slender fingers. He examined it closely, sighing in relief when he didn’t find anything suspicious about it. He looked around, pondering who would’ve left the beautiful thing with someone like him.

That’s when he noticed a small brown note on his lap.

_**"Pretty, isn’t it?"** _

Taeyong stared at the words written on the small piece of paper with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Shrugging and mystified, he opted to return back to his house. While he was on his way to his room, he prepared an unused black vase, filling it with water before placing it beside his window.

"Perfect." He thought happily as he placed the red rose in it.

"I don't know what's pretty, the flower or the city- but both I guess." He mutters to his self, yawning a bit.

He dropped his self on the cozy comforts of his bed. Taeyong visibly relaxed against his soft fluffy mound of pillows, hugging one to his self as he reminisced his day. His day had been unique, snorting to his self as he did nothing but sleep but still - the mere image of the rose and a mysterious person kept on intruding his mind.

Then he remembered the arguments his parents had, the threats his father sent, the curse words, the whispers, the rumors and the nightmares haunting him in his dreams over and over again, but amidst all of it, he imagined a hand reaching out for his. It brought him to dreamland, he never felt so sleepy and safe like this in years, and maybe in the years to come also.

Morning came and Taeyong was already in his new uniform, white long sleeves topped with a dark blue vest and navy blue pants. He was ready to go back to school to finish off the education he was forced to abandon. He woke up early in order to prepare breakfast for his self since his mother already left to her work, a cook, at a restaurant which was technically around the next district so he was all alone in the house for now. It was nothing new to him.

After breakfast, he was about to head out for the day when he sees a black box with a white ribbon neatly tied around it. It was perch above their porch balusters. He raised a brow at it in total confusion. It was on THEIR porch, and it was most definitely not from his mother as he had not seen that object there earlier when he took out the trash.

Frowning, he grabbed the box cautiously and opened it. Taeyong's cloud of negative thoughts flew away as he brightened up at the sight of chocolate truffles and another brown note attached to it.

_**"Smile."** _

Slowly, the corners of his lips itched upward.

He coughs and tried to put on a straight face to fight off the smile. He slaps his right cheek hard- "Ow!" He whined to no one, rubbing his cheek that he haphazardly slapped. “Who are you?” Taeyong grumbled, not that he'd expect an answer anyways but still.

One of his neighbours, a middle-aged single mom who was tending her garden at the moment, gave him an incredulous look.

Taeyong replied with a sheepish smile. "A-Ahh- Who gave this? Ahhh" He looked away and whistles. "It must have been my mom, silly me-"

The woman shrugged and returned back to her work. He sighs in relief. "So much for a great first impression." He mumbled lowly while shoving the box inside his bag.

The woman's ears seemed to twitch as she glances at Taeyong's way again.

Taeyong cleared his throat and smiled at her awkwardly. A small tinge of pink was visible on his cheeks, suddenly feeling conscious of his self. Having respect for adults, he greeted his neighbour a brief "morning" and an awkward mix of a bow and a wave before grabbing his new bike and running off to the direction of his new school.

He pedals quickly and made sure he was out of eyesight and earshot before slowing down. As he did so, his thoughts stray away to the rose and box of truffles that appeared out of nowhere ever since he arrived.

Yet for some unknown reason, he liked the thought of having a secret admirer - he daydreamed.

"Okay- back to reality- " He glanced at his watch.

“Ahk- I’m late!”

The next day, another surprise came in the form of a knock on his front door early in the evening. The deliveryman scanned his lists. "Does Lee Taeyong live here?"

Taeyong raises an eyebrow, eyes wandering to the huge colorful bouquet of different fragrant flowers, daisies against a beautiful backdrop of pink roses, fuchsia carnations, green button poms, purple liatris and bupleurum. He diverts his attention back to the man who looked quite young, he looked up. Heck he was not only tall, but he was darn handsome with jet black locks adorning his face of sharp jaw, perfect nose and absorbing brown eyes- His mom coughed from behind him. He snapped out of it. "Y-Yes, I am him." He replies, stuttering a bit.

The delivery man flashed him a smile. Taeyong almost died of a heart attack right there.

"Sign here." The man showed him where- his eyes wandering off again to the man's biceps this time. Especially with how that muscle tee seemed to firmly wrapped itself around the man's- His mom coughed again.

He slaps his cheek with a loud smack, the man in front of him looking at him in surprise before breaking out into a soft chuckle. He heard his mom somewhere laughing behind him.

Taeyong curses under his breath, grabbed the pen and signed his name quickly, taking the flowers in his arms with a hurried "Thanks" then closing the door as to not embarrass himself further.

He look at the bouquet in his arm and pouts a bit. "What am I gonna do to you-" He squints his eyes as perched among it was another brown note.

_**"This is you."** _

His heart skipped a beat.

The day after that, he received a box of strawberry short cake from the same delivery man.

_**"I know this is your favorite."** _

Then the days kept on, he lost count already. Taeyong would always receive unexpected gifts on his doorstep either during unattended mornings or early in the evening always with the same delivery man or guy, with brown notes attached to each one. Although the words his secret admirer left never cease to amuse and encourage him, it was all too good to be real. Day by day, he got more curious. Day by day, he got more impatient. He just wanted this mysterious admirer to reveal himself in front of his house already. It was quite spooky yet exciting at the same time- this person seemed to know him very well and he doesn't even know why.

He appreciated the affection but it wasn't enough.

"Are you a stalker or what-" He frowned, growling slightly and ruffling his hair in frustration. He was inside his bedroom, on his bed, with all the brown notes scattered all over his sheets.

_**"You look good in black."** _

_**"Send my regards to your cute little plant, Bernie."** _

_**"Good luck on your exams, Yongie ah. Fighting haeyadwae!"** _

_**"Your silver hair is beautiful."** _

_**"Why do you look so sad? Don’t frown, it’ll ruin your lovely face."** _

_**"Cheer up, have some of your favorite candy."** _

_**"Don’t be down, I’m here. Not physically but you’re in my heart, Tae. I hope I stay in yours."** _

_**"You look so happy today. I hope the smile stays on your face, forever."** _

And the list goes on.

On another early evening, Taeyong opened the door before a knock was even made. The delivery guy for the past days retrieved his hand from the knocking motion, flashing Taeyong with his signature cute smile. "Good evening to you too, Mr. Lee."

Taeyong snorted, crossed his arms and leaned on the frame of the door. "Just call me Taeyong..." He eyes the name plate on the guy's shirt. "..Seo Youngho-shii". He would never admit it but he grew fond of the delivery guy, even accusing him once of being the one who was actually giving him all the gifts to which the guy wheezed after laughing so hard.

Taeyong made a mental note then to just, stop assuming.

The guy laughed at that. "Just call me Johnny, Taeyong." He winked, pulling out a small package this time. Taeyong eyes that. "Here you go!"

Taeyong for the nth time signs his name on the paper and opens the package right there. He gasps loudly, Johnny looking at him questionably before shrugging and walking back to the delivery van.

Taeyong ran his fingers along the hardbound edges of the little book in his hands. Eyes almost tearing up at the sight of the book with the title, "Little Prince", in silvery letters. He lost his copy that his parents gave him long ago as a child when he ran away from home, and now here he was given a new one - an exact same copy of a book he treasures so much, and by some of questionable identity.

"W-wait!" He yelped, chasing after Johnny who had just shut close the back of the delivery van.

Johnny looked at him with a smile. "Yes? Is something wrong with the package?"

Taeyong looked back at him with a serious face. "Tell me who is the one sending all of these- these stuffs to me." He demanded.

Johnny shook his head. "Sorry- No can do, that's confidential info kid-"

Taeyong's lips quivered a bit. "P-Please?" He looked at the tall guy with puppy eyes.

Johnny sighed softly. "Ow ow- Hajima, don't give me that look-!" He overreacted, placing his hand over his chest.

Taeyong rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine! Just tell me-" he stopped.

Johnny was looking at him seriously.

"Tae... I don't know but.. It's better if you don't know, at all." The guy mused, looking at Taeyong in the eyes with an unreadable emotion.

The new profound seriousness of the usually playful guy in front of him had Taeyong averting his eyes downward, unconsciously letting out a small whine. "I need to kno-"

"The truth will hurt yo-"

"But-!"

"Taeyong!" Johnny raised his voice a little. Taeyong freezed.

Johnny sighed, running a hand over his black locks of hair. He glanced over and saw that Taeyong was shaking a bit. "Are you sure?" He whispers softly in a small questioning tone.

Taeyong thought over the small question. Is he sure? Does he really want to know? Does he need to know? With the way that Johnny was serious all over this small matter, it made him think twice and make a double take whether he truly wanted to know this or not. Is it even worth it? Is it?

No, Taeyong _needed_ to know. The little thing inside him was gnawing him out everyday, and his guts is telling him that he should know. He should even if it'll hurt him in the end. What else could hurt him after all that he's been through? With a firm resolution in his eyes, he looked up and stared into Johnny's eyes. He opens his mouth-

"Johnny, you're scary-"

Johnny blinked, "Pfft-!" He bursts out into a huge fit of laughter. "Sorry, sorry!" He chuckled. "You have to calm down and relax." He says in an English accent. "Now, where were we?" Johnny smiled at him now.

Taeyong smiled at that.

The next day, an all too sunny Saturday, Taeyong stepped out his house as he eyed the address written on the piece of paper held between his fingers. He scratched his head in confusion as he squints his eyes to make sure he was seeing it right.

"Wow, Johnny's handwriting sucks-" He chortled, thinking back to the time he accused the guy of being his admirer and cringed. "Definitely a no-" He thoughy as the handwriting of his admirer's was so much better.

He shrugged. Following Johnny's notes, he walks out of his porch, "Okay-? So the instruction says...", turns to the street at the left side of his house and takes thirty steps forward- "One two three four five.....twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine and thirty-" He stops walking.

He blinks. There were no more notes. "That's it!?" He gawks at the paper, flipping it over but really seeing nothing more of Johnny's notes. He growled a bit, reminding his self to murder Johnny the next time he comes by the house- He stopped. His ears twitched as he became silent.

His ears twitched again, there were piano keys being pressed. He turns to the house on his right, a huge contemporary home that was the second one to the left of theirs.

He looked around his surroundings first to make sure he wasn't hearing it right but no- there were piano sounds again, and his eyes widened in realization. It reverbrated from the huge house.

"Johnny was right. Silly me- It was this house-?" He tilts his head as he stared at the seemingly expensive looking fiber glass and metallic railings- the beautiful garden and stone steps leading to the front porch. He had an inkling thought, he never passed by the streets on the left side of his house since the road connecting to the main part of the city was to the right of their house.

"Sorry John-" He clears his throat and slowly approaches the front door of the house, taking a deep breath before pressing the green button of the door bell.

And it chimed.

No answer.

The piano also stopped.

He straightens his self up and presses the door bell again.

It chimed again.

Still no answer.

He tapped his feet lightly against the wood, thinking. For the last time, he reaches for the doorbell with his nimble fingers-

"Yes-?"

He stopped halfway and stared at the guy who opened the door, mouth open in shock. The said guy's eyes, black, mirrored his bewildered hazel ones. The guy was by now visibly gulping.

"H-Hyung!?" He chokes out.

"Y-Yongie-?"

The door shut close, Taeyong ran back to his house.

For the next few days, Taeyong skipped school. His mother didn't understand why but she didn't bother forcing him, probably thinking it was all about his bad memories of the past. Maybe, or maybe not. His hyung, was after all shared a part of that past.

He was shell-shocked. The little brown notes stopped coming as well. Needless to say, he never needed to ponder why as he knew that answer to that already.

His hyung, his brunet hyung, the same one who held his hand around and played with him when he was three years old, the same one who covered his ears for him when he was four years old, the same one who promised he'd be there for him always when he was five years old and the very same one who still left him despite saying so - much more without a _goodbye_ when he was six years old.

That hyung, Jung Jaehyun, he was here. He was right here all the time, 2nd house down to the left.

His chest started to swell.

That same chubby cheeked, dimpled smiled hyung who was now in the few minutes that Taeyong saw him was deemed to be tall - handsome yet still with those pair of curious and enthralling jet black eyes, a thick curly mop of brown hair, toned body - Taeyong's mind wandered too much but still- Jaehyun was not just the hyung he followed around anymore, Jaehyun grew up into a fine man.

A really fine one at that.

His chest swelled again, but this time with a different set of emotions.

But why? Why was his hyung sending him all of these stuffs? For what? Did he know it was Taeyong-? Slash that, of course he should've known it was Taeyong. But why didn't he just show up in front of Taeyong? Taeyong kick his feet and messed his hair with all the pent up frustrations he was keeping the past days. "Why!?" He tried to scream, but his voice failed to come out - stuck in his throat.

_Why did he have to make Taeyong love him all over like he was three then leave him a mess as if he was six?_

Then, the doorbell rang, echoing almost mockingly throughout the walls of the house after almost a week of not being pressed on. Taeyong glanced outside and sighed deeply, the sun had already set without him noticing at all.

He forced his legs to move and carry himself to the front door where he was greeted by an almost enthusiastic Johnny, his bright smile not having any effect on Taeyong's sour mood this time for the first time.

“Yo, Tae!” Johnny winked. "A package for our lovely next door neighbor." He grinned.

Taeyong stared at Johnny, his eyes conflicting with all sorts of emotions. Anger? Disappointment? Happiness? Resentment?

Taeyong doesn't know anymore.

He insisted. He shouldn't blame Johnny. He reached out with shaky fingers and instead of grabbing the package in Johnny's hand, he grabs the front of the guy's shirt and slams his head on the firm chest.

"Johnny... I... I saw him..." He whispers, voice on the verge of breaking.

Johnny sighed, smile dropping.

"I warned you, Taeyong."

Taeyong bit his lower lip. "B-But-" He didn't know how Johnny knows, but it didn't matter as of the moment.

Johnny ruffled his hair, comforting the poor shaken soul. "Here, take this box. This is the last one-"

Taeyong pulled away, eyeing the sad smile on Johnny's face. "L-last one?" He whispers in confusion.

Johnny grabbed Taeyong's still fingers and made it sign on the paper forcefully.

"There you go." Johnny still smiled sadly, shaking his head as he turned away. He stopped for a bit. "Do me a favor and don't throw it away without even checking it. You might regret it even more, Yong."

Taeyong nodded slowly, stared at the box in his hands, not sure if he wanted to open it or not but Johnny's voice rang in his ears almost too loudly. It screamed for him to just open it.

He opted to sit down at the first step of the stairs leading to his porch as he watched Johnny leave with the delivery van, afterwards he started opening the box on his lap, fingers quite fidgety for some reason. He was nervous - not knowing what this package may hold for him and his future.

He peeked inside.

Some sheets of paper and a letter.

Taeyong first picked up the letter as his eyes started to scan the contents thoroughly.

" _ **Spring, my series of firsts.**_

_T'was the season that I first laid eyes on you._

_I held your sticky hand, you smiled up at me._

_You were three, I was five._

_Young, I know, but back then I knew it was love._

_**Spring, rejuvenation and rebirth.** _

_For me, it’s renewal._

_A renewal of my purpose in life._

_A purpose anew as I laid my eyes again on you._

_You're now twenty, I am twenty two._

_You laughed, so beautifully, I forgot how to breath._

_**Spring, also my series of lasts.** _

_I'd never hoped to say this out ever in my life time_.

_But to leave again without so much of a word for the second time?_

_Farewell, Taeyong, let's finally share this goodbye,_

_For the first and the last time._

_They say that cherry blossoms are the ephemeral of beauty._

_But for me, you are the ephemeral beauty of my life._

_**You are spring.** _

_**I love you.**_ "

Taeyong released the breath he didn't realized he was holding, blinking away the tears that welled up in his eyes. But yet, he couldn't and he cried.

For the _first time_ in his pathetic life, tears streamed down his face, and he thought he looked pretty pathetic too. He grabbed the other sheet contents inside the box- He quickly arranged the jumbled papers in order and glanced over it.

Taeyong saw music notes.

He looked over the title and smiled softly despite looking like the world was about to end.

" _ **Vernal (Spring)**_ "

He looked over at the side notes on the first page.

" _The song has ended but the melody lingers on. Tae, it's okay to cry._

_Tears are God’s gift to us._

_Our holy water._

_They heal us as they flow._ ”

Taeyong's mom approached him from behind.

"Tae, sweetie?" She called, eyebrows furrowing a bit.

Taeyong didn't glance at his mother's way, humming in reply. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry for jogging up bad memories, but do you remember that sweet boy next door? You know that young boy you used to play with all the time? His family called and-"

Taeyong dropped the box and ran to Jaehyun's house with long strides, like he never did before in his life. Fear crawling into his skin, the ends of his hair standing as his eyes widen - locking his sights on the door of the Jung household. He practically jumped into their porch and stopped before he bumped into the door. He took a deep breath, sweat trickling down his forehead as he shakily reaches out to press a finger on the green button of the doorbell.

The door opened.

"Hello?"


End file.
